


Rat's Nest

by Blazeshadowrogue



Category: Grifball, Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, I have no idea what I'm doing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blazeshadowrogue/pseuds/Blazeshadowrogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After yet another loss in Grifball, the team returns to their meeting room. Flynt gets frustrated, Tank gets confused, and Rookie is...well, Rookie. Cute things ensue afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rat's Nest

“Team Slipspace has once again been defeated, making this their fifth loss this season. Their match with…” The voice of reporter Stu Stuman was quickly drowned out by a collective groan emitting from the aforementioned team.

“Turn it off, Rookie,” Flynt demanded, sounding both angry and defeated. He sighed in exasperation and dropped down onto the couch in their “meeting” room, allowing his body to go slack. Rookie made a disgruntled sound before he picked up the remote off the coffee table in front of Flynt. He pointed it towards the television and pressed the power button.

“Hey! I was watching that!” Tank exclaimed. He reached over in attempts to snag the remote from Rookie’s hands, but the taller held it up over his head and out of Tank’s reach.

“Why? We already know who won.” Rookie frowned, tossing the remote back onto the table and crossing his arms.

“Wait, who won?” Tank asked. The large male looked towards his captain, waiting for an answer to his confusion.

“The other team won.” Flynt stated.

“But what about us?”

“We lost, Tank. As usual.”

“Oh.” Flynt sighed deeply once again. Then, he reached up and pulled his helmet off his head. Lock of light brown hair fell into a poofy mess and his grey eyes narrowed in annoyance. He ran his fingers through his hair in attempt to calm the fluff, but only managed to make it worse.

“Your hair looks like shit, dude,” Rookie laughed, “It’s like someone just rubbed a balloon all over it!”

“Yes, I’m well aware.”

“I’m serious! I’m pretty sure a rat could live in that mess!”

“Yes, thank you, Rookie. It’s really not that funny.” Flynt placed his helmet down onto the cushion beside him and sent a glare over to the male laughing hysterically. Tank merely watched on in confusion.

“I don’t get it,” he said, cocking his head slightly. His brown eyes flickered between Flynt and Rookie. “I like his hair.” Rookie paused for a moment, his laughter ceasing abruptly. His eyes jumped from Flynt to Tank, watching the larger for a moment, almost suspiciously. His eyes narrowed at Tank and then slid back over to where Flynt was sitting.

Suddenly, the hysterics started again. He threw his head back and tried to grip his sides through his armor.

“What?” Tank asked, but received no response. Rookie turned away and laughed his way out of the room. His voice echoed down the hall before fading out and vanishing. Again, Tank turned towards Flynt. “What’s so funny?”

“Honestly? I have no idea,” the brunet shrugged. Flynt leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ret away the stresses that came with Grifball. Thoughts of how terrible they had done their last game plagued him, however. He’d have to come up with new plans and new plays now, seeing as their old ones had failed. He ignored the shuffling coming from the room in favor of drowning in ideas.

However, he couldn’t ignore the fingers beginning to thread through his hair. Grey eyes snapped open and glared at the figure towering over him, now missing half of their armor.

“What are you doing?” He inquired, eyes locking onto Tank. Brown eyes and a grin stared back at him. Tank continued to slip his hands through Flynt’s hair.

“I like your hair,” the male repeated from earlier, grin growing wider, “It’s all soft and fluffy and stuff.” Flynt sighed half-heartedly at his teammate’s response. Still, instead of pushing him away, he allowed himself to relax under Tank’s touch and his eyes to shut once again. The action was surprisingly soothing and there was no way he was going to complain about it.

 

And if he woke up a few hours later propped against Tank’s chest and a hand still resting in his hair, then he still wouldn’t complain. He’d just pull himself closer to the other’s body heat, curl up, and worry about it the next time he woke up - if he woke up to the flash of Rookie’s camera, like he expected. 

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no clue what I'm doing. Why is it so short?  
> But Hey! I have an AO3 now, where I can post all my terrible writing and stuff so that's a thing.  
> Also I really love Flynt with fluffy hair I can't even?
> 
> On another note: WHY IS THERE NO GRIFBALL ANYTHING. THE MINISERIES WAS LITERALLY THE BEST AND I LOVE IT?


End file.
